


Keep Running.

by Diabolo_girl



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bandom - Freeform, Gen, My First Fanfic, Not Beta Read, Written at six pm, bad grammar. A little angst.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7165496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diabolo_girl/pseuds/Diabolo_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Killjoys seek shelter in a abandoned theater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Running.

Warnings: Not Beta read.  
Disclaimer: MCR belong to themselves. The Killjoys belong to My chemical Romance. I own nothing, mean no harm and do this for fun.  
  
Against their better judgment, the Killjoys hid in a abandoned theater. Sleeping on the dusty, broken down stage. Trying to sleep, anyway. None of them had said anything to the others but they had all been awake,  dangerously deep in their own minds. As their leader Gerard knew he should find another place, say something, do something. He couldn't though, he just sat crying in the middle of the dusty stage. When the first rays of sun hit the stage, they packed their gear, preparing to leave. Trying to act like it had been one of their normal hide outs. But their movements were sluggish, not only from sleep, but nostalgia. Even through it was dangerous they wanted to stay. Gerard guessed that the need to stay in the rat infested place showed as bright in his eyes as he could see in his comrades. Longing looks to what would have been their place on the stage. It was almost as he could feel the beat, feel the music running through him, making him high. Memories, making him want  to throw his head back and scream. But he didn't because now his scream would not be from the rush of music in his veins. That scream was forever buried in the back of his mind, in a box he did not dare to open. If he screamed now, the sound rising from his dry throat would not belong to him, it would belong to Party Poison, a howl of anguish, loss and desperation. A howl from a band leader who lost his drummer to the Dracs just two weeks into their rebellion, not even getting the chance to bury the body. Instead seeing it strung up by the road a few days later. A warning  to those who Called themselves Zonerunners. It would be the helpless cry of a rebel leader out of his depth. No, Gerard did not howl, instead he slipped his helmet on. Letting Party Poison take over. Deliberately not looking back as he walked to the Trans am. During daytime only one thought could occupy his mind.

Keep Running!  



End file.
